Tides That Don't Return

Chapter 1

Chapter One: Tides That Don’t Return

When Serena Valmonte stepped off the private jet in San Elarios, the night had already swallowed the last traces of sunset. It was well past nine-thirty, and it was her thirty-fourth birthday.

Her phone had buzzed all day with warm messages from colleagues, university friends, even her old diving team. Everyone remembered. Everyone except the one person whose silence hurt the most: her husband, Luca Valmonte.

By the time the car wound its way up the cliffside road to Villa Azura, the dashboard clock glowed 10:17 p.m.

Marta, the housekeeper who had practically raised Luca, appeared at the entrance holding a lantern like something out of another century. The old woman’s eyes widened.

“Señora Serena! We weren’t expecting you until next week.”

“Where are Luca and the children?” Serena asked, hearing the thin edge in her own voice.

“Señor Luca hasn’t come back from the city. Little Elio is asleep, and Miss Livia… well, she’s locked herself in her room with her crafts again.”

Serena handed over her suitcase and climbed the sweeping marble stairs. The house smelled of salt and orange blossoms, same as always, yet everything felt strangely foreign.

She pushed open the door to the lavender bedroom that once had been a nursery. Her nine-year-old daughter sat cross-legged on the rug, surrounded by glittering shells, beads, and fine silver wire. Livia was so absorbed she didn’t hear the door.

“Liv?” Serena whispered.

The girl’s head snapped up. For one bright second her face lit like sunrise. “Mommy!”

Then, just as quickly, she dropped her gaze back to the half-finished necklace in her lap.

Serena crossed the room in three strides and folded Livia into her arms. She pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s salty hair. Livia allowed it for two heartbeats before wriggling free.

“I’m in the middle of something important,” she said, already turning away.

Serena’s chest ached. Two months since she’d last held her daughter, two months of overseas conferences, urgent acquisitions, endless red-eye flights and this was what she came home to.

She knelt on the rug anyway. “What are you making, love?”

Livia’s eyes sparkled again, cautious this time. “It’s for Aunt Mara’s birthday next weekend. Dad said we’re giving her something really special, something we made with our own hands. Look…” She held up a delicate spiral of pearls and turquoise sea glass. “We polished every piece ourselves. Dad ordered the silver from Italy.”

The words hit Serena like cold water.

Before she could speak, Livia rushed on, oblivious. “Dad even commissioned a jeweler to engrave the clasp. Tomorrow we’re driving to the old port so Mara can choose the final stone. You should come!”

Serena swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “Sweetheart… do you know what today is?”

Livia blinked, string of beads frozen between her fingers. “Thursday?”

A pause.

“It’s my birthday, Liv.”

The little girl’s mouth formed a perfect, horrified O. She glanced at the calendar on her wall, bright cartoon mermaids, no red circle, no reminder, then back at the necklace.

“Oh,” she whispered. “Mom, please don’t be mad. I just… Dad said Aunt Mara’s day was more important this year because…”

Serena stood up slowly, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her dress. “It’s all right,” she lied.

Livia never looked up again. She bent over her work, fingers flying faster, as if speed could erase the moment.

Serena lingered in the doorway a long time, watching the small determined back that wouldn’t turn around. Finally she slipped out, pulling the door closed with a soft click that sounded louder than any slam.

Marta closed the kitchen door behind her and lowered her voice. “I just rang Señor Luca. He said he’s tied up tonight and that you should rest, señora.”

Serena managed a faint nod. “I see.”

She stood alone in the moonlit corridor, Livia’s words still echoing in her ears. Dad said Aunt Mara’s day was more important this year…. The sting of it rooted her to the spot. Finally she pulled out her phone and dialled Luca.

It rang so long she almost gave up. When he finally answered, his voice carried the same cool distance it had worn for months.

“I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait till tomorrow?”

Before she could reply, another voice floated through the line, light and teasing. “Luca, who’s keeping you up so late?”

Serena’s fingers tightened around the phone.

“It’s nothing urgent,” Luca told the woman, then, to Serena, “I have to go.”

The call ended with a soft click.

Two and a half months since they’d last laid eyes on each other. She had flown eighteen hours across oceans to surprise them, yet he couldn’t spare sixty seconds to speak to his wife. After eleven years of marriage, Serena thought she had grown armour against his chill. Tonight it felt paper-thin.

In the old days she would have rung back, demanded explanations, maybe even begged. Tonight she simply stared at the dark screen until it went black.

Morning light spilled over the terracotta tiles when she tried again. There was a seventeen-hour time difference between San Elarios and the city where Luca spent most of his weeks now. Here, the sun was already high on her actual birthday.

She hadn’t come home just for Livia or for him. She had pictured the four of them, her, Luca, Livia, little Elio sitting down to a simple lunch under the pergola, laughing over cake, pretending they were still a family that fit together. That was the only gift she had dared to wish for.

He didn’t pick up.

Hours later, a single message blinked on her phone.

Luca: What’s up?

Serena: Free at noon? Let’s have lunch. Bring Elio. All of us together.

Luca: Okay. Send the address when you decide.

That was it. No “happy birthday.” No apology. Nothing.

She stared at the grey ticks until they turned blue, then set the phone face-down on the nightstand. She had braced herself for disappointment, but the reality still carved a fresh hollow beneath her ribs.

Freshly showered and dressed, she was heading downstairs when voices drifted up from the kitchen.

“Are you happy the señora’s finally home, Miss Livia?” Marta was asking.

Livia’s answer came quick and bright. “Yes! But tomorrow Dad’s taking me to the jeweller so Aunt Mara can pick the sapphire for her necklace. It’s going to be the prettiest thing she’s ever seen!”